


Heartlines

by Hikari_and_Yami



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Blindshipping, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Non-Chronological, Post-Canon (ish), Yuugi basically telling the Gods they can get bent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7390015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikari_and_Yami/pseuds/Hikari_and_Yami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stage 5 of Grief: Acceptance </p><p>Yeah. Fuck that. </p><p>Sincerely, <br/>Yuugi</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kudalyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kudalyn/gifts).



> On my tumblr, I offered up the opportunity for my followers to send me a favorite song of theirs, and I would listen to them all and pick my favorite one to base a puzzle/blind oneshot on. 
> 
> Listened to the song Kudalyn sent me and fell in love with it, so this happened and one chapter turned into five. 
> 
> Enjoy - 
> 
> Inspired by 'Heartlines' by Florence + The Machine.

Yuugi wasn’t listening anymore.

Not to his family, to his friends, or to acquaintances, or even to himself, really. 

He had stopped listening long ago, because he had heard it all so many times before.

For six months, he had listened to the sympathies, the condolences, the commiserations. He had listened to the counsel on how to heal, to the advice on how to move on, and to the guidance on how to grow from such a unique experience.

And so he was done listening now.

He could only manage to feign interest in the redundant conversation, as he traced the lines of his left palm over and over again with the thumb of his right hand.

He had almost gotten through the entire exchange, too.

But Jounouchi just had to say it.

He just _had_ to go there.

He just had to say, “Hey, man, I get it.”

A whisper of words left Yuugi’s mouth on their own accord, and he instinctively dug harder into his palm to distract from the burn in his eyes.

“What was that?”

“I said, you don’t _get_ it.”

Yuugi readjusted his mask and hoped it would not crack and crumble in front of an audience. 

“That’s not fair, Yuugi.” It was Anzu who spoke now. “He was our friend, too.”

“I never said that he wasn’t,” Yuugi said, and he wouldn’t cry, he _wouldn’t_. “What I said is that you don’t get it. You don’t understand what it’s like to lose your other half.”

“We know how important he was to you,” Anzu sympathized, her features soft. “But you can’t live your life clinging to the past, Yuugi. He wouldn’t want that.”

“Oh, and you would know what he would've wanted, right?”

Now _that_ wasn’t fair.

Yuugi closed his eyes, inhaled a deep breath, and tried not to choke on it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It's just…”

It’s just _so_ hard, he wanted to tell her.

He wanted to share with them his anguish, to show them how deep his sorrow ran; how it had engraved itself into his soul; how it had woven itself into every fiber of his being, into his very sense of self.

And that’s what they didn’t understand.

They wanted so desperately to rid him of his pain that they didn’t realize that it was something that he could no longer exist without.

It was a part of who he was; a piece of himself that he held on tight to no matter how much it cut into the palms.

And the harder he tried to hold onto it, the more he bled, but he couldn’t let it go, he just _couldn’t_ , because he didn’t know who he was without it anymore.

It followed him everywhere he went; it seeped into every conversation and floated into every open space. It was in his touch now, inside his throat, behind his eyes, and even when he tried to blink it away, it was still there, it was _always_ there.

When Atemu left him, he left him bare.

He left him empty, and so now every time Yuugi so much as breathed, every part of him ached, for he was so hollow that the pain echoed inside of him. It resonated against his bones with every beat of his heart, and it was agony.

But that was better, that was far better than the days that he woke and instead of a void, he found inside of him a flood.

Because those were the days where the grief would consume him whole and fill him until there was no more room. With no other means to escape, it would pour out of him and run down his cheeks and make little stains on his bedsheets.

It was exhausting to alternate between feeling so utterly shallow and so irrevocably full, and the clouds of fatigue that hugged at his frame provided little comfort.

Even as he sat there, under the scrutiny of worried gazes, he couldn't discern where he was or what he felt in that moment, only that he wanted it to go away, but he also wanted it to stay, because it somehow soothed him. 

His pain was ironically his only comfort, because it reminded Yuugi - it constantly reminded him of the person he had lost, and he wanted to be reminded.

He never wanted to forget.

He never could forget. 

Yuugi shook his head and smiled at his friends, because he didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t trust his voice not to crack under the weight of his despair.

He just smiled at them, and sometimes it was real and genuine and sometimes it wasn’t.

But the sorrow and anguish that submerged him in vast oceans was real.

It was as real as Atemu’s heartbeat that Yuugi had felt under his palm.

It was as real as Atemu's laugh; as real as his smile and his voice and his tears; as real as his arms when they wrapped themselves around Yuugi; as real as the love Yuugi harbored for his other half. 

It was as real as he was.


	2. Chapter 2

_With cards and toys splayed out in front of him,_ Yuugi sat on the floor with his back against the wall of his soul room and stared at a space by his feet, his gaze unfocused. It was a cold, rainy Wednesday out in the real world, but his soul room, this safe little space tucked away in his mind's eye, was warm and kind to those with heavy hearts.

He had spent the last hour trying to string together his thoughts, but he had found them in such a tangled state that he had made little progress thus far. Thread by thread, he attempted to unravel the mess he had made, to discern one from another, before he realized that the conflicting emotions that had sowed themselves into his every thought had made this a rather impossible endeavor. 

He was both pleased and dismayed when his other half entered his soul room. 

“Other Me,” Yuugi greeted from his spot on the floor. 

The Pharaoh appeared concerned. “Partner," he said, and his voice was as strong as he was beautiful with eyes of dark scarlet that peered out at him from underneath a crown of ebony and golden hair. "What are you doing here?”

Yuugi smiled at him, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Uh. I’m not quite sure. I guess I kind of just needed some space to think, and I figured it was quieter in here.”

“I see," his other said. "Well, I apologize for the intrusion. I will leave you to – “

“No, no, don’t be ridiculous.” Yuugi waved him down, gestured to the empty space on the carpet next to him. “You are never a bother, Other Me.”

The Pharaoh hesitated for only a few moments before accepting Yuugi’s invitation to sit.

He lowered himself down to the floor, graceful like the ancient ruler he had once been, and he was close enough now that Yuugi could feel his body heat radiating from the depths of his soul and the layers of his skin.

The magic of the puzzle, of their bond, the same one that made the Pharaoh a solid entity in the safety of their soul rooms was both a gift and a curse.

A gift for allowing Yuugi to hear the beat of his other's heart and feel the warmth of his breath, and a curse for the same reasons. 

In this room, his other self was there, real, and as tangible as the pain that Yuugi felt in his chest and under the tips of fingers.

Yuugi’s smile slowly fell.

“Do you wish to talk about what troubles you?” his other half asked, seated next to him with legs bent and arms resting over his knees. 

Yuugi hummed and looked at the toys by his feet. “I don’t know. I’m not sure it would help all that much to put my thoughts into words.”

The Pharaoh paused. “Do you suppose it would do harm instead?”

Yuugi wasn't sure, so he said, “Perhaps.”

Yuugi wondered then what it would be like to be strong.

If he was stronger, perhaps he wouldn’t be so burdened by his feelings. He would maybe be able to store them away instead, somewhere far and out of his reach, knowing that they had no place here in this room, in between a spirit of a Pharaoh from a city long overgrown and a teenage boy who didn’t know which way was up - only that the sun was supposed to be, but was instead in his other half’s eyes.

“I wish I could be like you,” Yuugi spoke, but the words sounded distant and quiet, like someone else had said them. “I’m not as strong as you,” he continued, “and I wish I could be…”

The next minute was spent in silence, and Yuugi supposed that it was all for the best.

He did not enjoy feeling this way; was not keen on being so consumed by these emotions. 

It made everything feel slanted, and he was so unsteady on his feet as of late that the littlest of things were throwing him off balance.

He had hoped that what he felt for his other half would eventually fade; wane and slow with time, perhaps. But instead, his love for the Pharaoh only blossomed and continued to grow with every brush of consciousness they shared, with every instance that his other's voice resonated in his head, and Yuugi was running out of room now.

He simply could not fit all of these emotions inside of him anymore, so he was forced to hold his heart out in his hands with no idea of what to do with it, only knowing that he didn’t want anyone other than the Pharaoh to take it away from him.

“I’m afraid I am not worthy of the pedestal you put me on.”

Yuugi looked up from his feet and met his other’s steady gaze. “You would say that,” he said with a fondness.

But it was not with fondness in his eyes that the spirit was looking at him now, but with a kind of misery. “You forget so easily,” his other reminded him, “that it was the darkness in my own heart that caused your soul to be taken by the Orichalcos.”

Yuugi would be having none of that today. “Other Me,” he whispered, because in spite of their closeness, it felt as if they were sharing secrets. “I have already forgiven you.” 

“You have,” his other said, “because you are kind, and you have a light in your heart that turns nights into days and suffering into peace. And it has been in the shadows casted from your light that I have learned my true weakness.”

Yuugi blinked at him. “You aren’t weak,” he said, and he might as well had told him that the sky was blue and that winters were cold and that love _hurt_.

“I _feel_ weak," the Pharaoh said, and the confession was as startling as it was true. "I care so much about what happens now; about our friends; about you. It has all affected my judgment. It has made me want things... selfish things."

His other's broad shoulders fell then, and he seemed to deflate into the wall a bit. He looked more like a troubled man with fears and worries about the future, then he did the fierce and determined Pharaoh who sought to regain his memories and vowed to tear down all those who dared to stand in his way. 

His other half should never look this way, Yuugi decided then. A champion should never look so defeated. 

That was Yuugi's only line of thinking in that moment. His thoughts were no longer of rights or of wrongs, because his other half was distressed, and it made every bone in his body ache to see him like this.

The Pharaoh glanced up when Yuugi moved out in front of him on his knees to face him. 

“Caring doesn’t make you weak, Other Me,” Yuugi said to him. “It means that you’re strong enough to open your heart and allow yourself to be vulnerable, if just so you can protect those you love.”

His other half didn’t respond. He just watched him with his piercing gaze, with eyes of red wine too sweet for Yuugi to ever taste.

And Yuugi found the sun again, found it in his other’s gaze and it warmed his soul and burned every inch of his skin as they stared at each other.

The Pharaoh slowly smiled at him - just a tiny pull of his lips. Then, a moment later, he frowned. “I need to beg your forgiveness, Yuugi,” he said, and his deep, soothing voice was different now. Shakier.

Yuugi tilted his head. “What is it that you’ve done?” he asked.

“It’s not for anything that I’ve done,” his other clarified. “I need your forgiveness for what I’m about to do.”

“What – ?”

His other self - this long lost spirit with no name, no memories, and no known past or future - grabbed his face then, with palms against his cheeks, and pressed his lips to his.

Yuugi’s breath caught in his throat, and his world spun a little faster.

His Pharaoh was kissing him, and Yuugi didn’t know how to respond other to lean into his King, sink into that heat that beckoned him closer and promised him safe haven, and kiss him back.

His other half pulled away after a moment, just an inch, and their noses brushed as apologies spilled from his lips. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his hands falling from Yuugi's face, “Please don’t hate me.” 

“I love you.”

Yuugi spoke the words with such conviction that not a soul in this life or the next could tell him otherwise.

“Then I must plead even more for your forgiveness. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Forgive me, Yuugi.”

Yuugi breathed, and his other's bangs fluttered. “There is nothing to forgive,” he whispered.

“But there is,” his Pharaoh stressed, “because all this does is hurt you, as I know that I cannot give you what you need.”

“You are everything I could ever need.”

“I am a spirit that cannot offer you the life you deserve. I cannot be a partner to you that can be a physical presence in your world; someone you can share your life with and warm your bed and - ”

“I need none of those things."

“I cannot stay here as I am, Yuugi.” His other was still so close to him that Yuugi could count every pained line that made up his handsome face. “The time will come when we will have to part ways, and now, because of my selfishness and my own weakness, I have given you something that I must now take away from you.”

Yuugi felt his eyes grow hot. “Must you take it away now?” he asked him, as he leaned forward to lay his head against his other's shoulder. Strong arms wrapped around him and held him close. “Or can I hold onto it until you leave?” Yuugi brought his hand up to rest over the center of his Pharaoh's chest. “I promise I will keep it safe," he said softly.

“You misunderstand me, partner. It is hope for a future together that I will take with me when I leave you. But my heart?” He laid his hand over Yuugi’s and pressed it tighter against his chest. _“That will be yours forever.”_


	3. Chapter 3

"Whoa."

Yuugi said nothing.

Stared at nothing.

And as he allowed Jounouchi time to process his words and react, Yuugi wished more than anything that he could feel nothing as well.

If only he couldn't feel the tightness in his chest that had steadily increased in intensity the more of his story he had shared. If only he couldn't feel his throat constrict with each word he spoke; if only his eyelashes didn't flutter and dampen with each memory he recalled.

If only he could hold the air in his lungs forever, so he didn't have to breathe, because every time he did, it hurt. 

"I'm... so sorry, Yuug'." 

That was not what Yuugi wanted to hear. He had heard those words so many times before that they were starting to play like a record in his head, on repeat, over and over and over again until it was all he ever heard anymore - apologies and the baritone echoes of Atemu's voice.

But Yuugi knew that the words were coming from a place of good intentions, so he nodded at Jounouchi to show that he had heard them. 

"I didn't know."

Yuugi inhaled a deep breath and found words in his throat, stuck somewhere in between a soft sob. "No one did," he managed, and his eyes stung, but he refused to blink.

"No wonder this has been so... hard for you. Damn."

Yuugi squeezed his hands tight then, closed them into two balls in his lap, and forced himself to take another breath. 

“Honestly, I’m kinda surprised he even kissed you in the first place.”

Yuugi was almost grateful for Jounouchi's words, for he found momentary reprieve in his burdened soul when a tendril of anger slithered into his heart and poured venom into his blood.

He slowly raised his eyes to meet his friend's gaze.

 _“What?”_ he hissed out. 

“No, no, that's not what I meant!”

The words rushed out of Jounouchi's mouth, and his hands came up in front of him, as if to defend himself against Yuugi's piercing gaze.

“What I meant is that the Pharaoh was always so determined to keep you happy and safe that I’m surprised he would... I mean, he must've known how much this would hurt you when he left. I know he wasn't perfect, but it's still weird to me sometimes when I realize that he was capable of makin' mistakes, too. Nothin' ever fazed that guy. But y’know, everyone has a weakness, I guess.”

Yuugi blinked at him.

Slowly. 

“Right," was all he said, but there was a bite to the word. 

The blond man bit his lip, and his apologetic demeanor dampened the fire in Yuugi's soul, leaving him cold and empty once more.

“Sorry, I know I’m not helpin’ much," Jounouchi said. "But I mean, if there was a way for him to stay with you, he would've told you, right? I mean, unless him staying would've somehow hurt you even more."

Yuugi paused. 

He opened his mouth. 

Closed it. 

And furrowed his eyebrows together. 

“Everyone has a weakness,” Yuugi repeated, a dazed echo of Jounouchi’s words.

The blond lifted his shoulders. “Uh. Yeah,” he mumbled. “I guess you were his.”

Yuugi paused again. He said nothing, as pieces slowly clicked together in his mind, and he worked on a puzzle no one could see.

Only when everything had fallen into place did he find Jounouchi's eyes. 

“He loved me," Yuugi told him. 

Jounouchi nodded. “I believe you," he said to him.  

“No, you don’t get it," Yuugi stressed the words. "He _loved_ me. With every part of who he was. He would have done anything to keep me safe." Yuugi looked down and slowly opened his hands. He traced the gentle lines of his palms with his eyes. "But he also hurt me. He hurt me so badly, Jou. Every time that he kissed me, every time that he held me tight and promised to love me forever, it  _hurt_ me."

Jounouchi frowned. “I'm sure he didn't want to hurt you, Yuug'. He would have never done it on purpose. It must have been hell for him, too... lovin' someone who he knew he'd have to leave... but in the end he was human, y'know. He couldn't be strong all the time."

“Exactly.” Yuugi glanced back up to Jounouchi. “Towards the end, he tried as hard as he could to distance himself from me, to spare me from the pain of him leaving... but no matter how hard he tried, he always came back to me, even though he knew it would hurt us both. He just couldn't help it.”

Jounouchi listened, he listened _hard_ to Yuugi's words, but he felt like he still wasn't hearing them right. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at here, Yuug'," he said slowly. 

But before the words had even left his mouth, Yuugi was already up, pulling a duffle bag from his closet and throwing it onto his bed. Jounouchi’s heart quickened at his friend’s haste; at the silent determination in his stride and in his gaze. "Yuug', hey man, what's going on? Talk to me."

“I think there’s a way,” was all Yuugi said.

“What do you mean? A way for what?" Yuugi didn’t answer, and Jounouchi pressed on, anxiously. “A way to get him back?"

Yuugi hummed in assent and shoved clothes from his dresser into his bag.

“No, Yuugi, you can’t…” Jounouchi tried, lost his words and grasped quickly for other ones. “Man, don’t do this to yourself. If there was a way, he would’ve told you.”

“Unless, like you said yourself, it would've somehow hurt me. But even then, Atemu loved me, and he was selfish in his love for me. So, I think he did tell me. Not on purpose, though. I think he let it slip."

Jounouchi exhaled - long and hard. “I mean, I guess that's possible," he offered. "But... don't you think you're graspin' at straws here? I hate to say this, Yuug', but I don't want to see you get your hopes up like this... I think... I think the Pharaoh is just gone.”

“Perhaps," Yuugi admitted, and every part of his soul clenched, every bone in his body hurt. "But I have to make sure."

Yuugi continued packing in silence, and Jounouchi knew in that moment that there were not enough words in the world to stop him. 

“Where are you going?" Jounouchi sighed, sadly, feeling defeated. 

“Away."

“Why?"

Yuugi stopped his movements, caught Jounouchi’s gaze, and said, “Because he told me to follow him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in the tags, but as you may have realized by now, this story is non-chronological and switches between past encounters between Yuugi and Atemu and the present (post-Atemu going to the afterlife). 
> 
> That being said, more angsty blindshipping coming your way next chapter. YOU LOVE IT, DONT LIE.


	4. Chapter 4

_The Pharaoh's skin was like sun against his_ , and softer than it should've been. It reminded Yuugi of silk and of secrets, and he could feel it all in the tips of his fingers, as he trailed them down the curve of the Pharaoh's bare shoulder and basked in its unnatural allure - all within the sanctity of his soul room.

Yuugi breathed Atemu in and breathed a part of himself out.

_Atemu._

A name so fitting for a King - one that they had only recently discovered as his other half's true name.

And it was because of that discovery that Yuugi knew; that they both knew... 

It was almost time for the Pharaoh to leave. 

In the past few days, Atemu had grown distant. He had taken to avoiding Yuugi whenever possible, and Yuugi never questioned him because he knew the intentions that drove Atemu to do so. 

But it had seemed that Atemu (and Yuugi, too) had underestimated how difficult it would be for the Pharaoh to maintain his resolve - one he had created in hopes of lessening the pain of his departure. 

He loved Yuugi with every bone and breath in his body, but his heart was conflicted, and his soul tortured, as he went about his final days trying to spare Yuugi his inevitable grief, all the while drowning in his own. 

And so he broke. 

This powerful, resilient, unbreakable King broke, and the night before their final duel, he sought Yuugi out like a drug, beckoned him to the boy's soul room, into his arms, and held him as if he were never going to let go; as if he wasn't an eye's blink away from vanishing from this earth forever.

“You know,” Atemu whispered to him, breaking the silence for the first time since they had settled onto the bed in Yuugi's soul room. “I remember... I have these brief memories of someone who taught me palm-reading. Back when I was a prince."

Yuugi lifted his head up from Atemu's chest and found garnet eyes gazing down at him. "Oh yeah?" he said. 

Atemu nodded his head, and Yuugi didn't resist (would never resist) Atemu's touch. He allowed the Pharaoh to take his hand and watched as his other half traced the lines of his palm with his index finger. “They say that this is your life line," Atemu told him.

Yuugi blinked down at his open hand, gazed at the long line that stretched out across his palm. Then, his eyes wandered. "What's this one?" Yuugi asked him.  

Atemu slid his finger to the center of Yuugi's palm. “This is your love line. Some people refer to it as a heart line.”

Yuugi nodded and examined the interruption of the line on his palm. Frowning briefly at the disconnection, he adjusted himself in the bed, propped himself up on one elbow, and then grabbed onto Atemu's hand. He opened it up wide like a fan. 

“Ours are broken," Yuugi observed, quietly. 

Atemu hummed. "So they are," he said, but his voice had something in it that it hadn't before. 

Silence fell over them, but only for a moment.  

"Hey, Other Me?" Yuugi paused and felt the need to correct himself. "Atemu...?"

The Pharaoh shifted and met his eyes once more. "Yes, Yuugi?"

“What happens..." Yuugi sat up in the bed and found the need to blink in order to remedy the sudden burn in his eyes. "What happens if your heart line exists only for one person, and that person is going to die?” he asked him, his eyelashes suddenly wet. “What happens then?” 

In lieu of answering, Atemu straightened himself in the bed and leaned forward to kiss Yuugi's palm, and then his cheek, and by the time he found his lips, Yuugi was crying.

“I will never forgive myself," Atemu confessed in a whisper, as if it were a well-kept secret, "for the pain that I’ve caused you.”

Yuugi brought his hands to Atemu's chest, over his beating heart and, in that moment, he didn't understand _why_. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you, Atemu," Yuugi said, his voice breaking in places Atemu knew it should never break. "I know, _I know_ , I should be happy for you to finally find peace, I shouldn’t want you to be in a time you don’t belong, but...  I’d do anything for you to stay.”

Atemu inhaled, his lungs expanding painfully in his chest, because Yuugi was the breath in his body, and the boy was hurting. “Even if I could stay in this life as a spirit," Atemu murmured, "you would be committing your life to someone who could never give you everything you – “

Yuugi's hands tightened, twisting the fabric of Atemu's sleeveless shirt. “I already told you that I don't care about any of those things!” he exclaimed, angry at no one, at everyone, at himself, at fate and at the gods and at how this wasn't _fair._  

"But I want them for you," Atemu said, voice steady, but his tone betrayed his anguish. "Don’t you understand that, Yuugi? I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to sacrifice _anything_ for me." Atemu raised his hands and let them fall over Yuugi's that still lay clenched on his chest. "I will force myself to walk through those doors, to leave you... because you are the light of my world. Of all the worlds."

“Stop it," Yuugi told him, breathless with tears. The ache in his chest was threatening to consume him. Yuugi slipped his hands from underneath Atemu's and brought them to lay over his own heart. He wanted to tear it out. "God, just take it with you!" Yuugi shut his eyes tight, but the flow of tears would not cease. "I don’t want it anymore. It _hurts_.”

Yuugi felt the body next to him still, but he couldn't bare to open his eyes. He didn't want to see the Pharaoh, because he knew it'd be one of the last times he would ever be able to.

Yuugi refused to look at him, even when he felt Atemu's hands at his jaw, even when he felt Atemu's lips at his brow.

But he could not deny Atemu long, as he was already full of cracks, and all it took to break him was the sound of Atemu's sharp, shaky inhale. It was this nearly silent cry that forced Yuugi's eyes open, that made the boy latch onto his tearful King. 

"Is there really no way?" Yuugi asked Atemu, arms wrapped around the Pharaoh and face buried into the crook of his neck. 

He heard Atemu take a deep breath before responding. "You deserve so much more than I can ever give you," the Pharaoh said. 

Yuugi felt Atemu pull away, and his arms being gently guided down from around the Pharaoh's neck. The sudden distance between them very nearly sent Yuugi into a panic before the Pharaoh seized his hands and assured him that he was not yet leaving. 

With both of Yuugi's hands now in his, Atemu brushed at the boy's knuckles with his fingertips, and Yuugi allowed his palms to fall open. With crumbling resolve, Atemu met Yuugi's watery gaze, and the boy was reminded of rubies and gems, and of a love he would never find again. 

“You will find happiness, Yuugi," the Pharaoh whispered to him. "You have to. My soul could never rest knowing that you are suffering because of me."

Yuugi looked at Atemu with a sadness not of this world. "I don't know if I can," he said. 

The boy watched as Atemu's eyes fell down to their hands. "If..." the Pharaoh hesitated and seemed to struggle with something that Yuugi could not see. "If things ever get too hard, if you find yourself unwilling or unable to continue on in my absence... remember that I am in your heart. I will always be with you." Atemu returned his gaze to find violet tears awaiting him. His hands tightened minutely around Yuugi's. "And if that's ever not enough," he told him in a hushed tone, "just follow the heart lines on your hand."

Yuugi didn't understand, but he nodded anyways, before leaning forward to rest his head against Atemu's shoulders. “I wish I could be strong, Atemu," Yuugi breathed out shakily in between quiet sobs. "I wish I could be like you."

Atemu closed his eyes, slowly and with intention. He pulled Yuugi close - impossibly closer, until they were one; until it seemed like nothing could ever separate the two. 

“If only you know how weak I really was, Yuugi," Atemu mumbled into his ear, his breath soft against Yuugi's cheek. "If only you knew..." 

 _And together, they wept._  

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Some descriptions involving blood.

By the time Yuugi had rather forcefully thrown open the door to the study, demands already spilling from his lips, a thick heat had settled into the corners of the room. 

Malik had just finished his evening prayers in front of a fan that provided the Egyptian little relief in combating the oppressive humidity. Despite being a child of the sun, he was born in the darkness of a tomb, and it had taken him the past few years to adjust to the blistering heat of Egypt. The fan itself was a sweet yet seemingly futile gift Isis had given him to aid in that adjustment. 

But still the white noise it provided was a calming one, and it had permeated the air after Yuugi had quieted. 

Blond hair swept up into a tie, Malik watched intently from his desk as Yuugi paced the length of his study. Ra had set only moments ago, and a warm wind snuck through the sheer white curtains hanging from the threshold of the adjoining balcony - the breeze like a departing gift from the Sun God himself. 

It hadn't taken long after Yuugi's arrival for the younger man to state his purpose there. 

"I am here for Atemu," he had told him without prompting.

The words had not invoked any discernible change in the Egyptian's facade.

"Would you like to take a seat, Yuugi?" he had asked his guest. 

The offer, direct and composed as it was, had caused Yuugi to narrow his eyes in suspicion. The Egyptian had not seemed particularly perturbed by his unannounced visit. Rather, the elder man seemed to have almost expected him.

Yuugi had declined the proposition and, shortly after, had taken to pacing.

It had been silent for a few minutes now, and Malik embodied only patience as Yuugi calmed his visibly shaking frame. 

"I won't be leaving without him." There was no pause to Yuugi's steps as he said this. "I won't," he restated, but quieter this time, as if reaffirming it to himself. 

Malik leaned forward in his chair, his expression unreadable.  

"Yuugi," he spoke slowly. "The Pharaoh Atemu has long since departed for the afterlife. You know this. You were there to witness it."

The name seemed to trigger something inside of Yuugi, because he suddenly stopped pacing and instead began to cry. 

“I want him _back._ ” Yuugi wiped at his cheeks with the tips of his fingers. “Please, Malik," he said. "Give me my King back.”

Malik watched him for a silent moment from his seat. "The Pharaoh was always meant to return to the afterlife," he responded. "It was the Gods' plan for him to do so. You should not interfere."

Yuugi narrowed his eyes at that, and he approached the desk. "I will not leave," Yuugi said again, emphasizing each word, "without him."

“The Gods want – “

“I don’t give a _damn_ what the Gods want," Yuugi spat, and he was utterly unapologetic in his blasphemy.  

With purpose, Malik placed his hands flat on the surface of his desk and came to stand. He towered a full foot over the other man. “You have not processed your grief," Malik stated matter-of-factly. "You have not yet let him go."

The lines of Yuugi's face tightened. "I will never him go," he told him. 

"You must accept - "

"You don't _get_ it," Yuugi snapped, gesturing out wide with his arms, desperate. "Without Atemu, my heart doesn't have a _home,"_ he said, tears renewed. "I will never accept that." Yuugi's gaze fell, and he suddenly looked smaller, unraveled at the seams, and not at all like the same man that had barged into Malik's study fifteen minutes prior. "I know there's a way," Yuugi whispered, though loud enough for Malik to hear. "I just need you to tell me what it is."

Malik remained quiet, and Yuugi continued on, bringing his hand up and opening it for Malik to see. "Atemu told me... he told me to follow the heart lines on my hand. I didn't understand it at the time... I thought it was some kind of metaphor, I guess. But I think it was more than that now. I think he was telling me how I could find him again."

Malik's face was a mask of composure and secrets. "If there was a way," the Egyptian said quietly, "then why wouldn't the Pharaoh tell you outright?"

"Because he didn't want me to know." Yuugi closed his hand into a fist and brought it to rest over his heart. "I think he let it slip in a moment of weakness, but I believe that he didn't want to tell me because... because he knew that bringing him back was going to come at a great cost to me." Yuugi locked his eyes over Malik's. "Isn't it?"

Malik said nothing, his eyes narrowing, not in anger, but in contemplation. His hands slid from the desk, as he moved away. As if hearing something call out to him, Yuugi watched Malik walk out towards the balcony, in between gently swaying curtains. 

A heartbeat later, Yuugi followed.

He found Malik looking over the lights of the city and the sands, the night's heat caressing his skin. 

"The sacrifice," Malik spoke now, his tone softer than it had been before, "would indeed be great."

Yuugi's heart jumped in his throat at the confirmation. “What do I need to do?” he asked him, taking a step toward him. 

Malik turned to look at him over his shoulder. "It's not what you need to do. It's what you need to relinquish." The Egyptian raised an eyebrow at him. "Why'd you come here, Yuugi? To me?" 

Yuugi's shoulders fell, and it seemed that with every moment that passed, Yuugi was finding it more and more difficult to keep all of his pieces together. "You know about the Egyptian gods and offerings," Yuugi said, "about the different realms and the afterlife... about dark magic. If there was a way, I knew you would know."

Malik almost smiled. "I can assure you this does not involve the dark magic that you saw from me many moons ago. This is simply about maintaining balance."

Yuugi tilted his head, blond strands curling around his face. "Can you bring him back?" Yuugi asked, voice a murmur. His heart clenched as he spoke the question, his every breath being held hostage in his heavy chest. 

Malik returned his eyes to darkened sky before them.

"I cannot," he said, but before Yuugi's heart could seize, Malik continued on, "But you may be able to."

Yuugi breathed, and it hurt, and he just wanted to not hurt anymore. "How?" he exhaled, his voice shaky. 

"You cannot simply bring back a life that has no more years to give. As I said, the Gods seek balance." Malik turned his body now to face Yuugi. “If you go through with this, then you will be forfeiting your time allotted on this earth." Malik caught his eyes, wanted to make sure Yuugi truly understood the severity of his words. "Yuugi," he said. "If the Gods accept your offer and allow the Pharaoh to return... then for every year that Atemu exists as a mortal in this world, you will lose a year of your own life.”

Yuugi inhaled, sharply. “What happens when I die?” he breathed out.

Malik frowned at him. "Then you will have no more years to give, and the Gods will take the Pharaoh back as well," he told him. "Are you truly willing to pay a cost so steep?"

Yuugi fell silent.

And for a moment, Malik had mistakenly taken Yuugi's silence as hesitation. 

"I am always cold, Malik," Yuugi suddenly said, and his companion seemed almost surprised. Yuugi turned to gaze out at the night sky, found a star that was unusually bright and captured it in his mind's eye. "Even now, in this heat, I am so cold, and I feel... like everything is dark. I feel like I am just barely surviving." Yuugi lowered his eyes to the marble balcony. "If I didn't try... yes, I would live a long life. But I'd live one with no colors, with no sounds or light. I would be no better than the spirit he was, wandering aimlessly, waiting to die." He gazed up at Malik, and his expression was resolute. "I'd rather live a short life, if it meant I could live in the sun again."

Malik listened, and he understood.

Accepting Yuugi's words for what they were, the Egyptian rotated his torso to retrieve an item from his waistband. When he returned to face Yuugi, he was brandishing a dagger.

It was thin, gold, and held a familiarity to the item that Yuugi used to carry around his neck. It was no ordinary dagger, Yuugi knew, but still when Malik gestured for his right hand, he did not hesitate in providing it. 

Without another word, Malik grasped onto Yuugi's hand and dug the blade into his palm, tightening his grip at Yuugi's involuntarily jerk and sharp hiss.

He slid the tip of the blade across his flesh, and the metal was searing against Yuugi's skin. A rising pool of red bubbled in Yuugi's palm, as the Egyptian traced his heart line and connected the interruption in the line with a deep drag of his knife. He raised the blade, allowing Yuugi a moment's reprieve, before bringing the sharpened tip down once more. With a single flick of his wrist, Malik cut down the middle of his life line, effectively severing it in two. Blood seeped over the edges of Yuugi's palm and in between his fingers, but only when he was done did Malik release his hold on the boy.

Yuugi's fist immediately clenched, and he brought it to his chest, trying to suppress the blood flow. Beads of sweat at his brow, Yuugi breathed in harshly and shut his eyes as a fainting spell threatened to take him. But he was determined to see this through, and so he forced his lungs to take deep gulps of air and willed his heart to steady.  

Soon, the world stopped spinning, and he found his footing. When he reopened his eyes, he found Malik's attention elsewhere. 

"N-now what?" Yuugi asked him, a tremor to his voice, and the flesh of his palm burning, as if consumed by flames, over his heart. 

"Now, you wait to see if the Gods accept your offer. It is in their hands now." With his free hand, Malik gestured past the balcony rails to the grand body of water to the east. "Go there, to the edge of the Red Sea."

Yuugi followed his line of sight. "And do what?" he asked, eyes on the water that glistened under the stars. 

Malik turned to look down at him. "And wait," he said. 

* * *

**o0~0~0o**

* * *

Yuugi wondered if time had no meaning here, as he stood at the edge of the sandy shore and looked out into the dark abyss. 

The water, even under a blackened sky, was a crystal clear blue, and it stretched out along the earth, endless, until it was all that Yuugi could see.

It should have been morning by now, he thought. He had been there for what seemed like nearly a week's time, and yet the new day had still not arrived. The sky showed no hint of light, no touch of sun. 

Yuugi wondered, on his trek here with nothing but a backpack full of water and food to survive, if perhaps he had crossed an invisible barrier, into another realm, where time stayed still and all that existed was he at the shore. 

Perhaps, he mused, this was the world's end, where ships had sunk to the bottom of the sea and nothing else remained. 

At no point had Yuugi turned to look back the way he came, for he had never planned to return, if he had to do so alone. If the Gods hadn't accepted his offering, then he supposed that he was doomed to spend the remainder of his days at this shore, waiting for a love that may very well never return to him. 

Yuugi sighed, and the tension in his body lifted, then settled again. Memories came to him, of Atemu's final night with him, in his soul room; of parting kisses and private farewells. And then to the following day - the vivid memory of Atemu walking through a set of heavy doors, as he fell to his knees and cried into the ground beneath him. 

Feeling a hollowness echo painfully in his chest, Yuugi shook his head to rid himself of the memory. He looked up, seeking a distraction, and he found a star instead - the same bright star he had seen from Malik's balcony, scattered among thousands of others. For a reason unknown to him, he found comfort in this particular star and, without hesitating, he reached out for it. 

He smiled when it seemed to come closer.

Eyes falling to his raised hand, Yuugi lowered it back down to his chest and gazed down at the bind. He had wrapped it in a cloth before he departed Malik's home, a makeshift bandaid that had stilted the bleeding. The cloth was saturated in a deep red, but it had dried long ago.

Yuugi turned towards the backpack he had left off to the side. He considered exchanging the cloth for a new one, lest he die of infection as he waited until the end of days here. 

Before he could move, however, he caught a shift out of the corner of his eyes. Yuugi returned his gaze towards the sky. The star captured his attention again - this time not because of its brightness, but because of its proximity. 

"Oh my God," Yuugi gasped aloud, though no one could hear him, "it's _falling_."

The star was indeed fast approaching the earth, but whereas it should've begun to disintegrate as it entered the Earth's atmosphere, it only seemed to increase in size and power. 

It lit up the sky as it fell, rays of light coloring the blacks and blues that surrounded it. With it's decreasing distance, it had become almost unbearably bright. But still, Yuugi watched it in amazed horror, hands at his mouth, as it plummeted towards him. He could do little else but stand there, frozen, until the star had become too close. Yuugi brought his arm up to shield his eyes then, and thus heard more than saw the star crash into the sea. 

Blinking to restore his vision, Yuugi dropped his arm and looked out towards the water, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He searched the blue expanse before him, but found no light underneath its surface. Bewildered, Yuugi found himself glued to his spot, as all that surrounded him stilled.  

And it was like this he stayed, until a head of dark raven and gold emerged from beneath the water's surface, and a gasping man broke through the divide.

Yuugi’s knees buckled, and time slowed and the world was no more.

All that remained in it's place was the line that stretched between him at the shore and the man floating at sea. 

Yuugi tears came quietly yet freely, as he took a tentative step forward, breath in his throat.

 _"Atemu...?"_ he whispered into the warm sea breeze. 

It wasn't loud enough for anyone to have heard him, but still the man in the water turned, and eyes the color of scarlet caught his gaze. They practically glowed in the dark. 

This man was a ghost, Yuugi's mind supplied. Atemu wasn't really there, in front of him, attempting to stay afloat as the current tried to sweep him away. This had to be a cruel prank by the gods; an illusion of sorts. 

This wasn't - 

Yuugi watched as recognition seeped into Atemu's skin, and the man's eyes softened. 

"Yuugi..." the man breathed, and Yuugi heard it as loud as if Atemu had been next to him. 

Yuugi broke into a sprint then, ran through the shallow shore, and when he couldn't run anymore, he swam.

“Atemu!” he yelled, his tears lost to the sea.

The sky began to brighten with the threat of dawn and, as the boy took quickened strokes towards him, Atemu reached out his hand, his heart line intact. 

He was _home_. 

 

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks. Hope you enjoyed reading this story, as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> If you're like me, you're pretty bad at leaving comments after every chapter you read. That's okay though, as much as I love feedback, I get that not everyone has the time to leave one after every single chapter. But I hope, if you've read this story up to its conclusion, you'll take a few minutes to share your thoughts now that the story is over! I read every single comment, and they really do brighten up my day, whether its positive feedback or constructive criticism! 
> 
> Thanks all! Hoping to see you guys around at my other stories!


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